


Cuddle Bug

by solarbishop



Series: Sleep Habits [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Comfort, Cuddling, Fluff, M/M, Size Difference, Sleeping Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-21 18:05:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9560675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solarbishop/pseuds/solarbishop
Summary: Gladio is a sleep-cuddler, and Noctis is awake for the first time to experience it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I love this ship; there isn't enough of this ship

Gladio has this odd habit of cuddling while he sleeps. 

One night, Ignis awoke disgruntled and entrapped in muscular arms, and Gladio had drooled into his hair. Gladio apologized, explained his unconscious habit, and grinned sheepishly in an attempt to shrug off his embarrassment (and, for whatever reason, Noctis always felt lighter whenever Gladio smiles). From then on, the group took turns sharing a sleeping space with Gladio, but that plan was quick to fall apart. Ignis could no longer tolerate the total disregard of personal space, and Prompto constantly complained about his inability to breathe and sore limbs.

That left Noctis, who normally slept like the dead, thus immune to Gladio’s peculiar quirk, and never stirred before his Shield. 

Yet tonight is different.

Awake, his mind blanks as the hotel mattress sinks. When Noctis feels the press of a warm body against his back, the heavy weight of an arm curling around his middle, and the soft breaths against his crown, he feels undeniably warm in his embrace. Noctis concentrates on the silence, his quiet breathing, and the subtle movements of his chest, but the hand that loosely rests against his stomach is distracting. Noctis almost squirms.

But despite not moving a muscle, Noctis feels a grunt of discontent against his hair, and his heart briefly flutters. He can imagine the furrow of his brows and a grimace creeping onto his rugged features. The mattress dips again, and Gladio is impossibly closer. His arm readjusts, his calloused hand traveling and settling over his chest. Gladio encases his smaller body with his own, nuzzling his chin upon his head. 

Gladio stills and snores. Noctis smiles a small smile to himself.

The prince wonders whether or not if Gladio really does this every night. If he does, then . . . he doesn’t dislike it. There is something about his tight embrace that strikes a chord within Noctis, soothing his nerves and edges. That pleasant warmth that seeps through his clothes and his skin, accompanying that familiar smoky scent of his Shield, serves to comfort him. The chaos of his life and the pressures of the crown are beyond this singular moment, and in slumber does Gladio still protect his prince. 

The thought is pleasing, and the urge to twist around and watch his face is there. The urge to bury himself into his chest is there. Yet Noctis refrains from both. 

Instead, Noctis closes his blue eyes, and the prince falls asleep in his arms.


End file.
